


Führe mich

by Menfinske



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Bondage, Butt Plugs, Collars, Dom/sub, First Time, Leashes, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-11-02 05:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske
Summary: Schneider wants to try some BDSM with his girlfriend, but wants a little experience first. Fortunately, he happens to know a dom whom he can ask for help.





	Führe mich

**Author's Note:**

> There is now a page where you can give Rammstein prompt ideas. Anyone can visit and give ideas and anyone can fill the prompts. So post them or browse them if you feel like it: https://rammfic.dreamwidth.org/288.html

Schneider knocks on Oliver’s door, pacing back and forth uncomfortably once the sound has echoed through Oliver’s room. He’s not even entirely sure if Oliver is home. Between his nerves and his need to ensure Richard wasn’t only gone, but gone long enough for Schneider to safely request – request what he’s about to request of Oliver, he hadn’t bothered to check if he could- request it now. 

He hears some shuffling behind the door before it opens, revealing Oliver standing in the doorway. Schneider immediately stops pacing to look at the man. Oliver is wearing his joggers along with a thin sweater. His expression is neutral, though it usually is. 

“Hey Oli. Were you busy?” Schneider asks. His voice comes out only the tiniest bit croaked. 

“No, I was just reading. Why?” Schneider shuffles uneasily on his feet, glancing down at them to avoid meeting Oliver’s gaze. “Is something wrong?” Oliver asks, clearly concerned at seeing Schneider’s discomfort. 

“No, nothing is wrong,” Schneider quickly tries to assure Oliver. He brings himself to glance up at the younger man, shaking his head a little to get his unruly hair out of his face. “I uh- I have a request of you. You’re free to say no though. Of course you’re free to say no. I wouldn’t even know why you’d possibly say yes. It’s a- hell of a request to make,” Schneider admits. Oliver allows a small smile, leaning against the doorway.

“How about you tell me what the request is and I’ll tell you yes or no?” Schneider nods, glancing first at his feet again and then, steeling himself, meeting Oliver’s eyes.

“I was hoping you could teach me about BDSM.” It comes out in a bit of quick rumble, but at least the words don’t bleed together too much for them to become incomprehensible. Schneider hopes. He’s not sure he’s ready to repeat that sentence. Oliver arches a brow. 

“I didn’t realize you had an interest in BDSM,” Oliver drawls. Schneider shifts uncomfortably again. He bites the inside of his cheek, remembering the conversation Schneider, Oliver and Richard had shared with each other after they’d learned Oliver was a dom. 

“Actually- I told you I didn’t know why someone would want to dominate someone. Which- I wasn’t lying about,” Schneider says, glancing at his feet.

“You’re a sub,” Oliver only half-asks. Schneider shrugs.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never- I want to try it. And Angela- she’s expressed interest in it too.” Oliver considers Schneider for a long moment.

“So then why are you standing at my door instead of hers?” Schneider manages to glance up again, looking Oliver in the eyes. 

“Because I’m really nervous. I don’t- I don’t fully know what to expect. I don’t know what’s expected of me. And she doesn’t need to think I’m experienced, because I’m not. I just- I’m a bit old to have never tried it if I have interest in it. I don’t want her to think I’m doing it just to please her.” 

“Are you?” Oliver asks. He seems rather invested in the answer. Schneider takes a deep breath.

“No. I’ve been to a- well, club- several times now. I never dared to actually make the step though. I- need my first time to be with someone I trust. Someone who won’t think I’m not interested just because it’s my first time,” Schneider admits. Oliver considers him calmly for a long moment and Schneider holds his gaze steadily. Finally Oliver nods. 

“Fine. But we’re setting some rules first,” Oliver says, closing his bedroom door behind himself and walking into the kitchen to grab both of them a glass of water. He gestures to the couch for Schneider to sit down. “You’re aware that you always need to have a conversation about what is and what isn’t allowed in the bedroom, right?” 

“Yes,” Schneider confirms with a nod. 

“Then why did you ensure Richard was out before you asked me?” Schneider looks a bit confused as to how Oliver knew that. Oliver allows a smile. “You were glancing at his door while you walked over here.”

“Oh. Well, he’ll be gone all weekend. He’s got a gig with his band out of town, they’re staying at friends there. I figured that, unless you’re busy this weekend, we could try it then. As to why I checked he was gone now- well, I imagine this conversation is going to be awkward enough without him eavesdropping.” 

“Fair enough,” Oliver acknowledges. “Have you two decided on a safe-word yet?” Schneider shakes his head. “Do you have one in mind?” 

“Don’t we need to talk about what we’d do first?” Schneider asks.

“No, because I need you to repeat it often. You don’t want to forget what the safe-word is when you’re- well, otherwise preoccupied.” Schneider nods, then swallows.

“Apple,” he admits, grateful that Oliver at least doesn’t know that Angela is a teacher. Oliver nods. 

“Alright. So do you have anything that you absolutely don’t want to do?” Schneider bites his cheek, feeling a blush rise across his face. 

“I don’t want to be choked,” Schneider very firmly says. “Or gagged. I don’t really understand how gagging works anyway. You can’t say your safe-word when you’re gagged. So I don’t want that.” Oliver nods his understanding. “And if you help me, I also don’t want to be blindfolded. I wouldn’t mind it but- I want to see what you’re doing. I want to know what to expect and I can’t do that if I’m blindfolded.” Oliver nods again.

“Anything you absolutely do want to do?” Schneider bites his lip.

“I- if you agree to it- I would like for you to treat me like a sub the entire weekend. I would like to be tied up. I would like to be spanked. I want to be marked and used,” Schneider admits, feeling his entire face burning up with heat while he’s revealing his desires. 

“Bruises and scratches don’t heal immediately after sex,” Oliver warns. 

“I know. They’ll have time to heal. Angela is going to leave for France for two weeks tomorrow. That should be enough time.” 

“You definitely planned this,” Oliver allows a smile. Schneider nods. 

“Like I said, I did- have an interest in it for some time. I just never had any prospect of practising it regularly with a partner I trust,” Schneider admits with a nod. Although the fact that Richard was gone for the entire weekend was mostly luck. 

“Alright,” Oliver says.

“Wait- there’s- I want to be a on a leash,” Schneider admits.

“Do you have one?” Schneider nods. “Alright. I’ll put you on a leash.” Schneider smiles gratefully. They continue to discuss the subject for quite a bit longer before Oliver is satisfied. 

Schneider wakes up to find the apartment empty on Saturday. Richard has likely already left for his band’s gig tonight, since it’s a bit of a drive and their bus isn’t- exactly a fast one. Schneider isn’t sure where Oliver is, his bedroom door open but no Oliver inside and neither the bathroom nor the toilet being occupied. 

Schneider goes to the toilet and grabs a glass to drink before going back into his room and retrieving his shoebox from underneath his bed. There were a few things inside, precious to him and not wanting to explain to anyone why he held on to them. New to his shoebox stash, however, is the collar he bought two weeks ago. It’s broad, taking up most of the space on his neck and the outside is a brown leather. The inside, however, is soft and gentle against his skin. There’s a large ring on one side and a clasp on the other. He’d attached his old army’s dog-tag to the ring, just like how a dog carries its name on its collar. 

He stops staring at the collar, putting it beside him on the bed and putting his shoebox back underneath his bed. The leash was a plain one, not worth putting in his shoebox. He grabs it from his desk, though he doesn’t click it onto his collar yet. He stands in front of the mirror with the collar in hand, but doesn’t wear it yet. It’s not his place to do it. It’s Oliver’s for now and Angela’s place to mark him after that. 

He’s filled with nervous energy while he waits for Oliver to return home. He’s lying down on the bed when he hears keys clinging at the front door and he gets up eagerly, walking out of his room to confirm that Oliver had gotten home. He’s carrying two grocery bags and gives Schneider a brief nod as he enters the room.

“It’s winter, you can’t tell me you’re comfortably warm with just your boxers on,” Oliver states as he watches Schneider’s state of undress.

“No,” Schneider confirms. He’d eagerly burrowed underneath his blankets earlier. “But you didn’t tell me to put my clothes on yet.” Oliver considers him for a moment, then allows a small smile. Schneider holds out the collar he’d grabbed from his desk. “I’m yours for the weekend. I’ll stay in my boxers if that’s what you desire.” 

Oliver doesn’t respond, instead putting the grocery bags on the counter before approaching Schneider. He takes the collar from his hand and, meeting Schneider’s eyes, brings his hands to attach the collar around Schneider’s neck. Schneider lets him, glad for the weekend to begin. Schneider hands him the leash as well and, though Oliver takes it from him, he doesn’t attach it to the collar just yet.

“Put the groceries where they belong,” Oliver commands, hooking the leash into his belt-hoops. Schneider nods, turning around to obey the command. He’s vaguely aware of Oliver walking into his own bedroom, though he has no idea what he’s doing there. Instead, he merely focuses on putting the groceries in their appropriate places. 

“The groceries are cleaned up, sir,” Schneider says, appearing in Oliver’s doorway. Oliver is standing over something at his desk, though Schneider can’t see what it is from where he’s standing in the doorway. Oliver turns around to cross the distance between  
them, his hands threading into Schneider’s wild locks. His expression is neutral as he does so.

“Your hair is dirty. Go and have a shower,” Oliver steps back to his desk, retrieving something from it before stepping back over to Schneider. “Prepare yourself and wear this butt-plug for the day. Then put on clean clothes.” Schneider shifts on his feet, glancing at the butt-plug with nervous anticipation. He’s never worn one before. However-

“My collar, sir?” He hadn’t exactly considered how the soft fabric on the inside of his collar might be problematic with some commands. Oliver considers it as well. 

“You will return to me so I can reattach it immediately after you’ve towelled off. No getting clothed first,” Oliver commands, bringing his hand around Schneider’s neck to undo his collar for now.

“Yes, sir,” Schneider confirms, walking into the bathroom and placing the butt-plug on top of the washing machine. He runs the shower before stepping out of his boxers. His eyes trail to the plug- Oliver had commanded him to prepare after the shower. After getting his collar back on- even. He won’t bring it into the shower then. 

He steps under the shower’s warm spray, letting his hair get properly soaked before he reaches for his shampoo. He washes both his hair and his body quickly despite being thorough. He can sometimes take long showers, especially on cold days. And though it’s still cold today, he’s anxious to get back out of the shower. To get back into the collar. To get on with the day. 

Turning the shower off, he reaches for the towel to dry himself off with the same haste. With his body already dry, he thoroughly shuffles his hair through the towel, drying it as well as he can. His hair is a little too long to get properly dry this way, but at least it’s not cold and dripping anymore when he puts the towel around his waist and walks out of the bathroom.

Oliver is watching television from the couch when Schneider surfaces out of the bathroom. Oliver’s eyes trail away from the television towards him, immediately reaching for Schneider’s collar which had been next to him on the couch. Schneider makes his way over without having to be urged. Oliver once again hooks the collar around Schneider’s throat.

“Schneider,” Oliver urges when Schneider is about to turn around to follow the rest of his commands. “Loose the towel.” Schneider nods even as he reaches down to push the towel off of his hips, feeling Oliver’s eyes on his body. “Good. Now go. Prepare and get dressed.” 

“Yes, sir,” Schneider responds. He walks back into the bathroom, drops the towel into the hamper and reaches into the cabinet to retrieve the lubricant. Then considers the bathroom- there’s nowhere that he could lie down to prepare himself. Instead, he takes the bottle of lube, the butt-plug and his clean clothes and brings them into his bedroom. Oliver glances up and watches him make his way across the living room to reach his own bedroom.

“Leave the door open,” Oliver says. Schneider nods, walking through the door and leaving it open. He places his clean clothes on the chair by his desk, then positions himself on his stomach on the bed. He opens the bottle of lube, a little nervous for what he’s about to do. He’s only been with another man a handful of times and he never prepared himself. Or anyone else for that matter. And the times he was prepared he was- well, significantly more aroused to begin with than now. Wouldn’t it hurt more now? 

He takes a deep breath, supposing he’d find out. Schneider squeezes out a dollop of lube onto his fingers, sliding them against each other to get them properly lubricated. He draws his knees up underneath him before he reaches back, using the hand that doesn’t have lube on it to spread his ass-cheeks. Glancing back to see what he’s doing, he’s a little startled to see that Oliver has abandoned watching the TV and is watching him instead. 

Schneider quickly averts his gaze, feeling very aware of himself all of a sudden. He reaches his lubricated hand back behind himself blindly instead, trailing his fingers along his crack for only a little bit before he feels the puckered up skin surrounding his hole. He circles it, closing his eyes and trying to loose himself to the process. Trying to forget Oliver watching him or that he’s not even the slightest bit aroused. Instead, he thinks about someone else doing this to him. He imagines the fingers surrounding his hole, trailing across and around it and wetting him, are someone else’s. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s more relaxed. Before he gently dips his index finger inside teasingly. He’s tries not to tense up at the intrusion, his fantasy changing Schneider’s finger into someone else’s easily. He doesn’t dip to deep yet, just gentle pushing back and forth. Gradually his finger goes in deeper when it meets less resistance. Schneider’s cock is erect against his stomach, but he ignores it. 

Only when he manages to get his index-finger in to the second knuckle without too much resistance does he add his middle finger. He encounters resistance again, so he goes through the process of gradual back and forth again until he’s relaxed. Biting his lip to enter his ring-ringer as well, he once again repeats the process. His cock is beginning to leak pre-cum by that time, his entire body tense with arousal. He finally can get all three finger back and forth comfortably and he continues teasing himself for a while, his hips bucking into the bed, trying to seek friction for his ignored cock. 

“Stop pleasuring yourself and insert the plug,” Oliver commands from the couch. Schneider bites back his disappointed sigh and stops himself before he can protest. He reaches his free hand forward to grab the plug, sliding the fingers of his other hand out carefully. Taking the lubricant in that hand, he ensures to cover the plug sufficiently before reaching back and inserting it into himself. It’s a little broader than his fingers but he’d prepared himself sufficiently, it seems. He only encounters the slightest bit of pushback before the plug is firmly in place. 

He gets up from his bed, considering his hands. Both of them are covered in lubricant. Leaving his clothes be for the moment, he walks into the kitchen to open the tap, washing his hands with soap. Just before he’s about to go back into his bedroom to get clothed, Oliver speaks up again.

“Come here.” Schneider obeys, standing in the spot Oliver indicates just in front of him. He feels very aware of himself. Not because of his nudity. Nudity wasn’t a big deal in the first place in East-Germany and they’re roommates to boot. Oliver had seen him undressed multiple times. He feels aware o himself because Oliver had just seen him pleasure himself. Although- at least it appears Oliver had enjoyed the show. His erection is visible through the soft fabric of his sweatpants. Schneider eyes his bulge hungrily, still aroused from preparing himself. 

“Turn around and bend over,” Oliver states. Schneider does as told. He startles a little when he feels Oliver’s hands on his ass-cheeks, spreading Schneider open. Schneider’s face still hadn’t cooled down entirely from his arousal but is heating up anew. He feels Oliver’s finger trail across the sensitive skin around his hole before he checks if the plug is in correctly. “Good. Get dressed.” Schneider eagerly gets up again, walking into his room to put on his clothes. Boxers, jeans and a simple sweater. He’s done in a moment, walking back towards Oliver and eagerly awaiting his next command. 

Oliver stands up, taking the leash from the table where he must have placed it earlier and hooks it into the ring on Schneider’s collar. Schneider stands still, waiting for Oliver to say anything. For the longest moment, he doesn’t. He merely regards Schneider silently. Finally, Oliver clears his throat. 

“You can sit next on the ground and watch TV,” Oliver states. 

“Yes, sir,” Schneider confirms, sitting down on the ground. Oliver doesn’t take a seat on the couch again, though Schneider can’t see what he is doing from where he’s sitting. He does hear him rummaging around in the kitchen, however. He’d have preferred sitting on the couch. Not just for the fact that it’s cushioned but because it’s winter and their floor is always cold, regardless of how they try to change that fact. It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before the cold seeps through his jeans and his boxers and only a few more minutes before it numbs his ass uncomfortably. He isn’t about to protest, however. He can be a good boy. He’ll prove it to himself and to Oliver both. And then- when Angela gets back- he’ll prove it to her too.

After a good half hour, Oliver resurfaces in his view. He takes the remote control, turning the TV off and takes Schneider’s leash in hand. He tugs on it to indicate Schneider should stand up. He eagerly does, happy to be off the floor. Oliver keeps the leash short as he walks toward their eating den, where he has two plates of food standing. Oliver takes a seat on one chair but, before Schneider can slide out another chair from under the table to take a seat himself, Oliver tugs on his leash again. Glancing at Oliver curiously, he indicates the space between his feet on the floor. 

“Kneel in front of me.” Schneider nods, getting on his knees in front of Oliver. Oliver reaches down to cup Schneider’s cheek in his hand. “Are you hungry?” 

“Yes, sir,” Schneider nods. 

“Then ask me for food.” 

“Could I please have some food, sir?” Schneider asks. Oliver takes the spoon from the table, putting some food on it before bringing the fork down to Schneider’s mouth. Schneider blushes a little at the thought of being fed like a begging dog, but he opens his mouth regardless. Oliver takes the spoon out of his mouth, unmindful of Schneider’s lips that had closed around it to take the food from it. Schneider chews while Oliver puts more food on the spoon. He brings it to his own lips this time, however. 

Schneider watches as Oliver continues to eat from his own plate without feeding Schneider in between. Schneider patiently waits at first, until he realizes that- he probably does have to beg for the remainder of the food on his plate as well. Schneider feels heat rise to his face at the thought of it, even as the sense of Oliver having to care for him this way does make something inside of him feel- at peace, somehow. Protected and nurtured. 

“Sir, could I please have some more food?” Schneider quietly asks. Oliver doesn’t answer, but he does grab some food from Schneider’s plate next, bringing the spoon down to Schneider’s lips. Schneider wraps his lip around the spoon, less tightly this time to prepare for Oliver withdrawing it again. He waits until Oliver has had two more spoonfuls before he repeats the question, repeating that process until Oliver’s plate is empty.

Even with his own plate empty, however, he merely waits for Schneider to beg before giving him the food from his plate. Schneider, in turn, can’t help but obey. It doesn’t feel as shameful as in the beginning, there’s a genuine warmth in his belly at being looked after this way, but he can’t completely shake the embarrassment from begging for his food. 

“Have you had enough?” Oliver asks after Schneider has stopped begging. 

“Yes, sir,” Schneider confirms. 

“Good. Get up.” Schneider gets up a little uneasily, his knees having gone uncomfortably numb like his ass had earlier from the ground. Oliver pays it no heed, tugging on his leash to get Schneider to follow. Schneider follows the best he can with legs feeling uncooperative underneath him. Oliver puts a pillow on the ground. “Take a nap.” Schneider is a little surprised at the command and Oliver must be able to tell from the look on his face. He arches one elegant brow up. “Did you misunderstand what I asked?”

“No, sir,” Schneider immediately says. 

“Good. Then sleep.” Schneider curls up on the pillow. It’s much too small, but he decides to put it underneath his head and shoulders. His sweater is thinner than his jeans, not to mention his head is entirely without protection from the cold of the floor. He places his hands underneath his head, to keep them off the cold floor as well, before he closes his eyes. 

The remainder of the day passes quickly and without too much more excitement. Oliver wakes Schneider from his nap two hours later and allows him to watch TV again, though he takes the pillow Schneider had been lying on. Schneider has to ask before he is allowed to go the bathroom, and Oliver walks with him because the leash doesn’t reach otherwise. It’s difficult the first time, Schneider’s nerves at being watched keeping him from being able to pee. It’s much easier already the second time. 

After two hours of TV-time, Oliver turns it off and gives Schneider the choice between reading a book or practising his drums. Schneider opts for reading, since he’s actually still waiting for new skins for his drums, causing them to be a little out of tune at the moment. Oliver tugs on his leash, walking him towards Schneider’s own bedroom. The book he’d already started reading is opened up on his nightstand. 

“Stay in your room while you read. I’ll call you when you can come out,” Oliver states, tying the leash around Schneider’s headboard. Schneider absolutely doesn’t protest. It means he can finally curl up on something besides the floor, can finally get rid of the cold that had been creeping into his body again. He barely pays any attention the rummaging around the kitchen indicating that Oliver is cooking while Schneider lies on the bed with his book, getting lost in the story. 

Schneider almost startles when Oliver returns to his bedroom. He unties the leash from the headboard while he glances at Schneider and his book.

“Put your book down. Dinner is ready.” Schneider puts his book back on the nightstand, easily following behind Oliver. He anticipates having to kneel on the ground between Oliver’s feet this time, and it has Oliver smiling appreciatively.  
Schneider has to beg for his own bites again. His face feels hot and Schneider is sure he’s blushing. Oliver pays it no heed, though, other than actually feeding him the bites when begged for it. He finishes his food before Schneider again, despite Schneider picking up on what he’s supposed to do immediately this time. Most likely because he makes smaller spoonfuls for Schneider, mindful that some of it could fall to the ground if too full. 

Begging for the bites when Oliver himself isn’t eating feels different. It simultaneously feels better and worse. Worse because Oliver’s complete attention is on him and how he’s kneeling and begging. And better because Oliver’s complete attention is on his needs. 

“That was it,” Oliver says, feeding Schneider the last spoonful. Schneider remains in place, waiting for Oliver to tell him what to do. Oliver cups his cheek briefly before tugging on the leash to make Schneider get up. Schneider obeys, soon standing in front of Oliver, his knees popping loudly at being abused the second time today. Oliver begins walking to his own bedroom and Schneider follows behind. Once inside, Oliver takes the leash from the collar. “Undress yourself and get comfortable on my bed. I’ll return once the dishes are done.” Schneider’s eyes widen at the command, realizing what it implies. Oliver smiles. “Yes, you’ve been good today. You deserve to be rewarded. Now undress and get comfortable,” Oliver repeats, taking off towards the kitchen himself.


End file.
